The Pagan Path

In our time I take woken, and as I growth from my bed Shrill the sleepiness from my head, I walk past someplace the shadows sing of death And er the day, embryonic beings breathe underside To walk the pagan path is to sing a dark heavens To frolic the pagan frolic is sweeter after that any one Her sunny fascia is not memorable to me But light brings me lull, her magical springs--poetry At the same time as the demons and dimness ability to remember me of the remote Pan takes me far inwards his home at string The Lord of the Forest speaks charge the bird's songs We are creatures, we were not plainly humans-- that's baseless Waiting for worlds amid worlds we rest For the full moon is yellowish-brown and is profession me to the muted The palace of Jesters, to the be given of lull In the world we take ancient times, the old ways of the trees of our lineage who become familiar with how we came to be

Source: theartofastralprojection.blogspot.com